


Sharing is Caring

by dracoqueen22



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Gift Fic, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 15:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5010835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Bob versus Prowl as they both have their optics set on an unattended box of donuts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing is Caring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rayearthmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayearthmagic/gifts).



> For Rayearthmagic, the second place winner in my 200 Follower Giveaway on Tumblr.

Prowl had one armload of datapads and a cup of midgrade spiced with magnesium. It was the perfect beginning to what was shaping up to be a very productive cycle.  
  
The only item he lacked was--  
  
Prowl paused. His doorwings twitched. He took three steps backward and peered into the tertiary break room. It was unsurprisingly empty, except for the small box on the table.  
  
A small box of jellied energon donuts, Prowl's favorite, rare indulgence.  
  
An _abandoned_ box of Prowl's preferred, iron-dusted energon donuts.  
  
His mouth welled up with oral lubricant.  
  
They'd been left here. Law of the lunch room stated that they were then available for anyone who wished to partake.  
  
Prowl's glossa flicked over his lips. He took two steps into the break room, already imagining their soft sweetness and creamy filling.  
  
In the distance, he heard shouting. There was some kind of ruckus, though no battle alerts were tripped so it was less of a concern. Until it got louder. Prowl looked toward the opposite doorway as the sound of skittering feet made itself known.  
  
Bob skidded into view and then past the door as his momentum carried him too far. Prowl blinked just as Bob reversed course and reappeared in the doorway.  
  
He rose up on his hind legs, his littler grasping arms patting the air. He tilted his head, antennae waving, as he chirruped at Prowl.  
  
Prowl stared at him. “Where is Sunstreaker, Bob?” That had been the rule. Sunstreaker could keep his pet so long as the Insecticon stayed either in Sunstreaker's quarters or attached to a leash at Sunstreaker's side.  
  
So far, he'd been good about keeping an optic on Bob.  
  
But then, there was the leash. The snapped off end of it trailed against the floor.  
  
Bob trilled at him and Prowl could have sworn Bob ignored him in favor of eying the energon donuts with all four of his optics. But that would be ridiculous, right?  
  
Then again, Ironhide had mentioned how voracious Insecticons could be. They would eat anything.  
  
Prowl's optics narrowed.  
  
The law of the lunchroom did not extend to the bottomless tank that was Bob. Prowl deserved those donuts.  
  
He tossed his datapads and cube into subspace and planted his hands on his hips. “No, Bob,” Prowl said sternly as he stepped closer to the table. “No donuts for you!”  
  
Bob tilted his head in the other direction. He chirruped again and came further into the room, straight toward the table.  
  
“No!” Prowl snapped.  
  
He went unheard.  
  
Bob tweeted a sound that was all but a giggle and lunged for the table.  
  
Prowl growled and dove, snatching up the box and lifting it high over his helm a millisecond before Bob could get his grasping claws on it. Prowl backpedaled as Bob ran smack dab into the table and it crumpled beneath his weight in a ground-shaking crash.  
  
Bob chirred and picked himself up with a little shake. His optics focused on Prowl again, or more specifically the box Prowl was holding over his helm.  
  
“No!” Prowl snapped, shaking a finger at the Insecticon. “Down, Bob! These are not for you!”  
  
The Insecticon's aft wiggled. His optics sparkled.  
  
Oh, no. Prowl had seen that reaction before. He backpedaled, his left pede got tangled in the leg of a chair behind him. He stumbled.  
  
Bob pounced.  
  
Prowl shouted as he went tumbling to the ground, struggling to keep his grip on the box as the weight of an Insecticon crashed into his chestplate.  
  
“Bob!” Prowl roared as his sensory panels stung from the sharp smack and he heard the skreel of his paint scraping off against the floor. “Get off!”  
  
“Bob!”  
  
Prowl tried to fend off the Insecticon with one hand as he heard two voices shouting in unison. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker came pelting into the room.  
  
“Control your pet!” Prowl demanded as he held the box above his helm and Bob tried to climb up his frame to get to it.  
  
Together, the twins locked their arms around Bob and hauled him off, Sunstreaker growling out “bad boy!” several times as Sideswipe started laughing and just couldn't stop.  
  
Prowl scuttled out from beneath Bob and crawled back to his pedes, trying to regain his ruffled dignity from wherever Bob had tossed it. He brushed off his frame, and mourned the new scratches.  
  
At least the box was salvaged.  
  
“You daffy thing,” Sunstreaker was saying, exasperated, as he and Sideswipe planted Bob on his aft and Sunstreaker gave him a very firm, “Bad boy! Stay!”  
  
Bob whined and lowered his helm. His expression conveyed disappointment, as much as an Insecticon's could.  
  
“You're not hurt, are you?” Sideswipe said as Sunstreaker attended to his pet.  
  
Prowl cycled a ventilation. “Nothing worth bothering Ratchet over,” he reassured as he watched Bob's antennae droop.  
  
He told himself not to feel like a villain. These were his favorite donuts! And Bob wouldn't even be able to taste them.  
  
“Sorry,” Sunstreaker said as he knelt down next to his pet, one hand firmly locked on the back of the Insecticon's neck. “He must have caught a whiff of something he wanted because he took off so fast he snapped the leash.”  
  
Prowl looked at the box in his hands. The donuts sparkled back at him, enticing him to eat them as fast as possible. He didn't feel inclined to share but…  
  
“It must have been these,” Prowl said, fighting back a sigh of regret. It would be rude of him to claim them all for himself. “They were left on the table, presumably for everyone.”  
  
The twins exchanged a glance. Sunstreaker ducked his helm. Sideswipe grinned and shifted his attention back to Prowl.  
  
“Nope, pretty sure those were left for you,” Sideswipe said with a wink. “So you can indulge all you want. Besides, Bob doesn't need a reward for misbehavior.”  
  
Prowl cycled his optics. “For me? What makes you say that?”  
  
Sideswipe rolled his shoulders. “Just a hunch. I have a feeling about these things.” His grin widened. “So if I were you, I'd skeddadle before we try to get Bob out of here.”  
  
Prowl chuckled. “Lesson learned.” He turned to go and hesitated. He looked down at his box again and pulled out the largest donut of the bunch. He half-turned, handing it to Sideswipe. “I'm willing to share one,” he said.  
  
“You're a good mech, Prowl,” Sideswipe replied as he accepted the donut. He handed it to Sunstreaker, who almost lost a hand as Bob snatched it from his fingers.  
  
Prowl quirked a smile at them. “Some might argue differently.” He paused, aware he should go, but something causing him to hesitate. “Perhaps you would be inclined to share these with me?” he offered.  
  
They blinked at him in unison, something others tended to find eerie, but fascinated Prowl.  
  
Sunstreaker shifted. “I should probably take Bob back to our quarters first.”  
  
Prowl shook his helm. “Bring him. There's more than enough room in my office.” He really did need to get these reports done but a little company wouldn't be bothersome.  
  
Bob chirped and wriggled under Sunstreaker's hold, his little arms sprinkled with iron shavings, and a bit of the powdered glaze around his mouth. Prowl couldn't help finding him a little adorable.  
  
“You're sure?” Sideswipe asked, sounding for once, uncertain.  
  
“Quite.” Prowl turned back toward the door and tilted his helm. “Coming?”  
  
They looked at each other again. Sunstreaker stood, Bob skittering around his pedes with evident excitement. Sideswipe's optics sparkled with humor.  
  
“Okay,” Sideswipe finally said with a grin. “Why not?”  
  


***


End file.
